Attic Abasement - The Funeral Song lyrics
[Attic Abasement - The Funeral Song lyrics]
Even when i'm only trying to peel off a layer
I can feel the still breeze of abandoned air
Being liked is easy, it's what comes natural
You're not a real girl, you're a spectacle
Painted on eyebrows, stomach surgery
Getting drunk too late or early
Anesthesiology whatever makes you happy
You bend at the knees when you breathe
You collide with your minds
Different colored eyes
Only rule is everybody dies
And you polish your palms, wreck your arms
And your hell is holding on
Expect to die and you'll survive
You're allowed to walk into the fire
I can tell you hate yourself
You're an easy sell, be sick or well
We are not done with the funeral song
We have more out of the last one
And we are a lazy parade and by singing
We count the days until the song's done
I'm gonna count to three now
Yeah, this is pulling teeth, it's mostly me
And you can count on that
You look your happiest when you're mad
On the way to the bathroom with your backpack
Shoot the messiah, wait for a sign
We'll wait for you on the other side
And while you digest the blood
Your friends gonna pull the plug
Listen to the lungs empty your soul
Bend at the knees when you breathe
You collide with your minds
Different colored eyes
Only rule is everybody dies
Polished your palms, wrecked your arms
Your hell is holding on
Expect to die and you'll survive
You're allowed to walk into the fire
As far as I can tell, you hate yourself
You're an easy sell, be sick or well
I can feel the still breeze of abandoned air
Being liked is easy, it's what comes natural
You're not a real girl, you're a spectacle
Painted on eyebrows, stomach surgery
Getting drunk too late or early
Anesthesiology whatever makes you happy
You bend at the knees when you breathe
You collide with your minds
Different colored eyes
Only rule is everybody dies
And you polish your palms, wreck your arms
And your hell is holding on
Expect to die and you'll survive
You're allowed to walk into the fire
I can tell you hate yourself
You're an easy sell, be sick or well
We are not done with the funeral song
We have more out of the last one
And we are a lazy parade and by singing
We count the days until the song's done
I'm gonna count to three now
Yeah, this is pulling teeth, it's mostly me
And you can count on that
You look your happiest when you're mad
On the way to the bathroom with your backpack
Shoot the messiah, wait for a sign
We'll wait for you on the other side
And while you digest the blood
Your friends gonna pull the plug
Listen to the lungs empty your soul
Bend at the knees when you breathe
You collide with your minds
Different colored eyes
Only rule is everybody dies
Polished your palms, wrecked your arms
Your hell is holding on
Expect to die and you'll survive
You're allowed to walk into the fire
As far as I can tell, you hate yourself
You're an easy sell, be sick or well